


Non-Alcoholic Revelry

by Vitanitas



Category: Loki: Agent of Asgard, Marvel 616
Genre: Drinking, Gen, Loki is of age in this fic, M/M, Past Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, post aoa 5, prompt: free for all
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-01
Updated: 2014-08-01
Packaged: 2018-02-11 06:39:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2057766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vitanitas/pseuds/Vitanitas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After all that's happened Loki decides he needs to get away from Asgardia and have a few drinks in space, only to run into a certain armored avenger.</p><p>Mild AoA 5 spoilers.  Written for Frostiron Month</p>
            </blockquote>





	Non-Alcoholic Revelry

**Author's Note:**

> I really wanted to post something for frostiron month and I was having aoa feels, so here ya go. A bit rushed and unbeta'd so please excuse (but feel free to point out) my mistakes/typos.
> 
> Happy Frostiron Month!

The bar he's chosen is far in on the far side of the galaxy; far enough away from Midgard, but not so far that it'd be a problem if he were to get into any trouble. His arrival for the most part goes unnoticed. Those who recognize him give him a glare, those who don't give him an appreciative glance.

It's perfect.

Just the place for a reprieve. Far from Midgard, Asgardia and the All-Mothers betrayal. From that horrid future self laughing at him in the mirror.

He might not be able to escape his fate just yet, but he can damn well get plastered in outer space.

His night out is enjoyable; he has some shots with some Namekians and plays a type of space beer pong with a couple of Kree Soldiers. He danced too, let himself have some fun he hadn't had since his time with the Young Avengers.

Eventually, the night (well it was night on earth anyway,) dies down and he finds a place at the bar. He orders as many different concoctions as he can. Earth rum is good, Namekian beer is  great, but the drink from a planet even the All-tongue can't pronounce is even better.

By now his belly is warm and his thoughts are a pleasant buzz. So far he's turned down all offers he's received (and he has gotten quite a few) merely wanting to drown his worries and what not. So he is prepared to turn down the next one, when the bartender brings a sparkling red drink to him.

"From the earthling in the armor." His reptilian voice hisses with amusement, placing the glass on the bar. Obviously, not many earthlings come to this bar (it being 3 million light-years from Midgard) so that catches his attention. But it is the 'in armor' part that really piques his interest.

"Armor..?" he questions, and the bar keep points a scaled hand to the other end of the bar, at no other than Tony Stark.

Despite being so far from home, Stark looks perfectly at ease; and smile on his face and his black and gold armor shining in the bars dim light. He gives Loki a wave and goes back to chatting with the blonde man beside him.

Intrigued, Loki takes a sip from the drink he was given. Then immediately sets it down again.

He almost shatters the glass in his fist.

Furious, Loki gets up and sets the glass in front of Stark with a hash clank. "What is the meaning of this?" he hisses.

"What?" Tony asks, "I thought kids like shirley temples, and honestly you seem a couple years shy of being legal to drink."

"I assure you, I am quite legal." Loki scoffs, taking a seat next to him.

"Where, on Asgard? Cuz I think I heard you guys were drinking that gross mead stuff from birth. I really don't think you're 21. Maybe 19, at most."

"Well, we're not on Midgard are we?" Loki scoffs, angrily taking a drink from his glass, only to remember what it is and set it down again.

Tony laughs. "I was just trying to look out for my team mates brother. Didn't think he'd want his kid brother drinking himself into oblivion so far from home."

"So you order me a shirley temple of all things?" Loki rolls his eyes. "And honestly, Thor's done much worse, when he was my age.... Physical age? Whatever."

"Riiight..." Tony drawls sipping at his drink.

A green skinned woman and another in golden armor walk up to Tony and his blonde companion. The armored woman, irks Loki, though he cannot say why. Perhaps it is her armor, or her height which seems so Asgardian to him and yet he know he does not know her. She scowls at him, and Stark as well. They converse for a moment and the blonde, who Loki now recognizes as Peter Quill, gets up.

"We'll see you back at the ship Tony. I think Drax and Rocket are still out there, keep an eye on them will you?"

"Will do, Peter." Tony says.

Loki eyes him dubiously after they leave. "Might I ask what you are even doing so far from your own realm? And with the Guardians no less."

"Having a drink for one thing." Tony says, lifting up his glass of.... soda?

Loki laughs.  "Are you drinking soda?" It may be the drink going to his head, but the thought of Tony Stark being so very far from his home and at a intergalactic space bar, where they sell any drink in the known universe and ordering soda of all things is hilarious. He ends up in a bit of a giggle fit. "You go to a bar is _space_ and you order soda!"

"Yeah." Tony shrugs. "I don't know what other non alcoholic thing to get." He swishes the brown liquid in his glass, frowning as he does so.

It takes Loki a moment, but when he realizes he feels very foolish. "Oh..."

Tony Stark is a recovering alcoholic. Forgetting such wide known information, he must be more intoxicated than he thought.

"I mean it is _space_ soda so that’s kind of cool." Tony tries.

The awkward silence that follows starts to kill Loki's buzz, which leads him to attempt conversation again.

"You should try the 'Warriors Drink' on the menu." When Tony eyes him distrustfully, he adds, "It's nonalcoholic, I swear."

"Alright..." Tony signals the bartender and places his order.

Fearing that he might be beginning to sober up (he's not), Loki order's another drink as well. Something sure to keep him intoxicated, Asgardian Mead.

The bartender brings them their drinks, and Tony clinks their glasses together.

"What was that for?" Loki asks, bringing the glass to his lips.

"Uhm... Our health?" Tony tries, but Loki just rolls his eyes.

The mead isn't nearly as good as it is on Asgardia. Far from it in fact. But it is still thick and golden, and sweet as it fills his mouth. And strong. Very strong.

The fact that it might actually be a bit too strong for this younger body is something he refuses to acknowledge.

While Loki was enjoying his mead, Tony has taken a sip of his own drink.

The look he give's Loki can only be described as 'utter disbelief and betrayal.'

"This is prune juice."

"My, you are as smart as they say." Loki says, enjoying his mead thoroughly.

"Are you trying to tell me something?"

"What?" Loki smiles, "I thought old people enjoyed prune juice."

Tony looks at him balefully.

"Also it's _space_ prune juice.” Loki can’t help but smirk. “Made from _space_ plums. Much cooler."

Tony laughs, his voice sounding young and his eyes crinkling in mirth. It’s a pleasant sound.

They sit and drink and do small talk which leading into more interesting conversation. They swap embarrassing tales of Thor, card games gone wrong, and bad choices of bed companions.

Eventually they drop into a companionable silence. Despite coming here to escape, Loki is glad for the company. It's much more fun to drink with another, than by yourself in a distant place.

The itself mead isn't very good, but it is strong. Loki's mind has already begun to feel like cotton, his stomach is satisfyingly warm and the world has a slight spin to it. It reminds him of when he first greeted Thor in this body, and his brother and bought him the finest mead he had ever had. It is a pleasant memory, despite Loki falling into his cups embarrassingly quickly, and Thor having to carry him back to Asgardia.

 The thought of Asgardia gives him pause though, and the stingit brings is enough that he pushes the glass away and reaches instead for the drink Tony had bought him. The spinning room is becoming painful now anyway.

"So..." Tony begins, noticing his switch in drinks. "Why all the booze anyway? Something on your mind?"

By now Loki's resting his head on the bar, too drunk and too dizzy to care. His diadem rests on the counter in front of him, and he glares his reflection in its golden horns. "Oh, just my inevitable fate to burn for all eternity."

Stark has the audacity to laugh. "Have you tried going to church?"

Loki glares at him.

"We've all made mistakes...?" He tries, "Look, Thor's told me that you've been... attempting to not be as much of a psycho villain as uhm, old you was. He talks about you a lot, he's pretty convinced you're on a better path. I mean, you're trying at least right?" But Loki just shakes his head.

"You don't understand. I can't escape it." He runs hand through his hair, frustrated. "It pulls at me. Whispers in my ear and laughs at me in the mirror..." The words falter on his tongue.

"The worst part," he starts again, and he can feel the sting in his eyes he's been fighting off for days. Loki doesn’t cry. Not even briefly. "No one wants me too."

"Thor wants you too." Stark tells him, and Loki knows it's true, and yet...

He shouldn't be like this. He should be angry; and he is. He has been nothing but cold retrained fury since he left Asgardia. It's the drink, and Stark looking at him with kind, worried eyes and it's too much. His entire existence has been forced into a shape he doesn’t want, and when he tries to change it something comes around to forcibly cut and tear and mold him back into his proper shape.

"It'd be better for Thor if I didn't….It would have been better if Thor had never brought me back." He chokes, "Better for everyone."

Stark doesn’t say anything, and Loki hides his face in his arms.

"Oh my god, are you crying?" Loki can hear the panic in Stark's voice. "You cannot pull the crying drunk thing on me, please."

"Shut up! This is your fault, and you know it." Loki rubs his eyes with the back of his hand, feeling young and stupid and tired. "Who buys a god a Shirley temple? What's wrong with you?"

"Loki you're not even making any sense."

"You don't make sense!" Loki shouts at him, then orders more mead from the bartender. Stark looks at him like he’s disappointed but Loki drinks until he can’t see it anymore.

The night goes on from there. Loki drinks and chats up the other bar goers,  laughs and dances, and comes back to the bar to drink some more. He's young still. Not old and wrinkled and burning.

Not yet.

He can afford a night of revelry, of self pity and fun. At least one.

~o~

When he wakes the world is a blur, all smudged colors and swirling movement. Someone is carrying him, and soon enough they place him onto a soft surface.

“Please don’t barf on my bed, okay?”

“Stark…?” Loki slurs, blearily opening his eyes to see the man leaning over him.

“Hey, you’re awake finally.” Loki’s eyes wander the dimly lit room. It’s small, plain with a small window on a far wall, showing nothing but an expanse of black space and distant stars. His diadem rests on a table next to him, and somehow Loki is touched that Tony had picked it up as well.

“We’re the guest room on the Guardians’’ ship,” Tony answers his silent question.  “We’re going to take you back to Broxton.”

“Not Asgardia…” Loki mumbles, grabbing Tony’s arm before he moves away. “…S’terrible.”

"Uhm, okay where do you want us to take you? because technically if I don't take you back to Asgardia I should probably hand you over to Shield..."

He finds his hand on Tony’s face, skimming his fingers along his cheeks, prickly with stubble. He runs his thumb over his lips, and Loki wonders what they’d feel like on his. He pulls Tony closer, his Iron Man armor resisting his advances.

“Loki what are you doing- Stop that-” Loki gave up trying to pull him down and had sat up, the universe now spinning at a horrible speed. He grips at Tony’s shoulder as he waits for it to stop.

“Dizzy…”

“Just, let go and I’ll get you some water-”

Tony’s lips are soft against his own, and Loki finds he likes it very much. Much more than when the man is talking. His hair is soft too; wear Loki’s hands run against his head. Tony, for all his protesting earlier, doesn’t immediately push him away. He glides his lips against Loki's, smooth and warm.

 He wants to touch him more, hold him against his chest without that damned armor in the way… He settles for kissing his neck, letting his tongue taste the skin there.

“Loki,” Tony says eventually, taking Loki’s hands from around his neck, and pushing him back into the bed. "Go to sleep."

"You never thought about it? Never looked at me in the past? I mean, probably not with Old me, he was frightfully wrinkled." Stark makes a face and Loki can’t help but chuckle, "But the Lady! Everyone looked at her. Although I can't remember if you ever met..."

“Go to sleep. You’re drunk, and jailbait, and I’m tired”

Reluctantly, Loki allows himself to lie back down. His mind still thick and he finds that sleep doesn’t sound so bad. Not as good as sex, but it would do. Still...

"It’s because I'm evil isn’t it."

Tony groans, moving from the bed and taking off his armor.

"No, it’s because you reek of alcohol and Thor would bash my head in with Mjolnir. Again."

"Whatever." Loki grunts, turning on his side away from Tony, acting as immature as Tony had accused him of before.

It stung a little is all.

"Look, I know what it feels like. When you keep trying to change, but no one wants you too, or no one think you can..."

Loki glances over his shoulder, and Tony is sitting in a chair across the room. His eyes look tired; much older than they seemed earlier in the bar.

"But when you want to change something... You need to do it for yourself. It’ll be tough and you’ll fuck up a few times. But you have to do it. And anyone who tries to get in the way can fuck off."

Tony stares back at him with conviction. Loki turns away again.

“…Thank you.”

He can hear the smugness in his voice. “You’re welcome.”

“You can drop me off in New York. Midtown.”

“Alight. I still have to notify Shield though. Also stay away from my Tower.” He adds.

“Are you still mad about that?” Loki yawns, tired and wanting the conversation to end already.

“Yes. Now scoot over, you’re hogging the bed.”

Loki does so, but still has to question, “I thought you said no.”

“I said no while you’re drunk. You’ll be sober in the morning and I might change my mind. And I’m not sleeping in a chair. This is my bed.” Tony grumbles, pushing Loki to the side some more and pulling the comforter over them.

While he waits for sleep to claim him Loki ponders the man beside him. Tony’s words rung true, and they relight the cold fire of defiance in his chest. No, he won’t let other decide his fate. Not anymore.

Even if it in inevitable that he will burn, he’ll fight it; and damn the consequences.

But until then he will sleep, and have an enjoyable roll in the sheets with Iron Man in the morning.

There’s no harm in a bit more revelry.


End file.
